Blue
by I Am Xpression
Summary: My father bought me a Barbie Dream House for my seventh Christmas. I hated it. But I smiled anyway because I was supposed to be happy and it was Christmas. What I really wanted was a Batmobile. Transgender!Santana. Pezberry fic. PREFACE IS UP!


So I've decided to write a Pezberry fic. Let's see how this plays out.

A/N: Just to make this clear, this is NOT a girl!peen or GenderSwap fic. This story is has a transgender story line. Repeat, this story has a TRANSGENDER story line. If that is not your cup of cocoa then you probably clicked the wrong link. This subject is not to be taken lightly, so if you do decide to read this I'd like it if you didn't bring hate to my fic. Thanks.

Also, how I portray Santana in my story is definitely not how every transgender person is. Every person has their own way of identifying themselves and transitioning. This will be written solely based off of research and my own experience.

And my Spanish is a bit off. I only learned it for two years... two years ago. Sorry.

Please enjoy. REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED!

Preface

Think back to the first Christmas you remember having. Did you get what you had begged your parents for all year long? Three hundred sixty-four days of doing homework correctly and being nice to the cousins that treat you like absolute shit. Well, congratulations. You had a normal childhood, more-or-less.

"Daddy! Daddy, look!" I ran through the large walk ways of mall to make sure no one got to the glass of KB Toys before I did. When I reached the display window my small hands smacked the glass and I pressed my face so much into it that I If I had gotten any closer I'd have suffocated myself. It was amazing. It was big and shiny just like I had seen on TV.

"Ah, so this is what you want, mija?" my father said, walking up to stand beside me. He placed his large hand on top of my head and chided lightly, "It's expensive."

"Please, Papa! It's the only thing I want this year. I won't ask for nothin' else. I promise!" I looked up at him through thick lashes and jutted out my bottom lip.

"_Anything_. You won't ask for anything else," he corrected.

I nodded fervently and clasped my fingers together for effect before quickly moving them back to the window.

"Say it, Santana."

"I won't ask for _anything_ else. ¡Papa, por favor!" I begged.

He chuckled and ruffled my hair. "Ay, alright. You can have it. But that's it okay?"

"Okay! Thank you, so mush!" The "ch" slid through my missing molars. I hopped up and he caught me easily. Throwing my arms around his thick neck and hugged him tightly. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome, baby," he laughed holding me against him. "You know, I think you have good taste, Baby Girl. It's really pretty."

My eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "It's not pretty, Dad, it's awesome!" I felt his chest vibrate with laughter again.

"Alright, it's awesome," he mocked in a high pitched voice. I giggled happily, sticking my tongue out at him. "How about we get some food on that tongue, yeah? What do you want?" Dad asked led me out of the mall.

"Hmm," I pondered, "McDonald's!"

"Again?"

"Uh-huh! Essept, can I have chicken nuggets this time?" I asked.

"Ex-cept, Santana."

"Ex-cept."

"That's right. And of course, you can, love."

I didn't know until Christmas came two weeks later that me and my father were looking at two completely different things. When I saw the large box wrapped Snoopy wrapping paper my eyes widened with excitement. He actually got what wanted, I thought. I didn't pay attention to the fact that the box was a bit bigger than it was supposed to be. Maybe he got me something else too. "Can I open it, Papa?" I turned to ask him.

"After breakfast, mija."

As I ate breakfast I tried to devour my oatmeal as quickly as possible before moving on to my bacon and orange juice.

"Slow down, Santana. It's not going to run away from you." He scolded looking over his newspaper.

Lowering my gaze, I brought the over-full spoon to my mouth. "Don't stuff your mouth." He stopped me.

We ate in silence for what seemed like an hour. He watched me eat the remainder of my oatmeal, bacon and juice and occasionally glance at the over-sized present. Finally finished, hopped from the table to run into the living room. "Done!" I shouted.

"Wait a minute, come back." I sulked back to the table. "Pit check."

I opened my mouth as wide as it would go and lifted my tongue in every direction. "Aaah."

"Hm, everything seems in order... Okay, you're done." He smirked.

I took one step away and he stopped me again. "One more thing."

My eyebrows shot up. You've got to be kidding me. "Sir?"

"Platos." He tried to hold back his laughter.

"Ay dios mio. Okay, Dad." I rushed around the small table and gathered my dishes. Placing them gently in the sink so not to break them, I sprinted to my dad and kissed his cheek. "Thanks again!"

"You're welcome, again. Go ahead, open it."

Dad watched me run into the living room and sit beside the little tree. Once my fingers touched the paper I was on fire. I ripped through the covering hastily, my eyes big and joyful. Until I saw the box.

It was..._pink_. The box was pink with two little girls playing with blonde dolls on it. In between the girls was a large plastic house with compartments of a regular house and more. There was a kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and even a staircase to go to the next story. It had everything. I looked at the words in the top left corner of the box and read, "Barbie Dream House." I hated it.

"It's nice isn't, San? Just like you wanted." Dad smiled at me from the threshold of the living room. "Look I even bought you the doll to go with it."

I plastered a wide smile on my face. "It's perfect, Daddy. Gracias," I said with false joy. "Eso es exactamente lo que yo quería. Muchas gracias." I saw the small box that was placed beside the Dream House and flipped it in my small hands. Behind the thin sheet of plastic was a Barbie equipped with a tiny brush and a purse twined next to her body. "Gracias." I whispered.

That night he helped me assemble the house. And all the while he smile held its place on his tan skin. He smiled because he was happy and he thought I was happy. Though, I was anything but happy. My smile couldn't have been more upside down on the inside. But I smiled anyway because it was Christmas. He wanted me to be happy and I wanted him to be happy.

My father bought me a Barbie Dream House for my seventh Christmas. What I really wanted was a Batmobile.


End file.
